The Invisible Boy
by AmberStarry
Summary: Dave finds a distraught boy crying alone in a classroom. He goes to comfort him, despite the fact he not exactly confident in how to go about it.


**The Invisible Boy**

Dave walked down the hallway. He had a thin book tucked under his arm and a pen behind his ear, an unlit cigarette in is hand and a rebellious attitude to accent all this. His long rasta dreads swung carelessly behind him and his stained shirt was visible for all to see. Heavy leather boots clunked on the polished surface of the linoleum floor as he walked to the designated classroom.

Dave Lister was exactly seventeen years of age, and he had enough petty crime violations to constitute a recidivist. The young man was anything but your average, angelic schoolboy; rather he was the smartass punk that kicked the angelic schoolboys butt. He disliked school and he had never seen the need for an education, the only reason he was attending was because his parents had forced him to; that and he was on juvenile probation, bound to good behaviour unless he wanted to be thrown in jail for a solid chunk of his life. Such was the woes of a causeless teenage boy without a care in the world or a smeg to give.

The class he was currently heading towards was English; out of all subjects he found this to be the most useless. He already knew English, if he didn't he wouldn't have been able to speak or write. The fact he had to sit through monotonous lessons about language and grammar and meta-language and all that stuff just gave him more reason to despise school.

Sighing he continued on his way. As he rounded a corner his attention was taken away from what was immediately in front of him, when a noise that sounded reminiscent of sobbing caught his ear. He paused his stride and turned his head towards a door that was closed. He stared at the door for a moment before walking towards it and slowly sliding it open, to reveal a boy sitting at a desk in an empty classroom, apparently crying.

Dave had never been one for consolation, no matter which end of it he was on. He was just as awkward receiving it as he was giving it, and under usual circumstances he liked to avoid situations like this if at all possible. He had never seen this boy before, but just from his appearance Dave could tell that their personalities clashed marvelously. The boy wore a freshly pressed uniform, with a perfectly folded tie and sparkling polished boots; his unruly curls were gelled and parted into what could only be described as a 'sensible' style and next to him was a pile of thick textbooks and folders, exactly the opposite of what Dave was willing to lug around. The boy had his head on the table, encircled by his lanky arms, which hid his face. Dave scratched is head and remained silent. He turned around and went to step out of the classroom; he didn't need this, somebody else could help this guy. He was sure somebody else would come across him eventually. That was his reasoning, but some part of his mind argued _what if nobody comes, what if this poor sap's left all alone? And you could have helped him, how would you feel then smeghead?_ You see despite the fact that Dave didn't have a smeg to give, he prided himself of the fact that he was a decent guy; while he could be immature, and often was, and while he could often be an arsehole, he could never be outright cruel or malicious. It just wasn't in his nature.

Growling at his conscience he turned back around and walked over to the boy, throwing his book on the table and taking a seat next to him.

The boy's cries stopped abruptly and he looked up startled to find somebody sitting next to him. A dark blush filled his cheeks and he hurriedly brought a hand up to wipe away the tears that were sliding down his face. "Who are you?" He asked in a voice far to pompous considering his current state.

Dave ignored the boy's obvious embarrassment and shrugged. "The name's Dave, Dave Lister. You okay man? You look a little down."

The boy nodded and stood up. "I'm fine. I have to get to class and I suggest you do the same before the principal finds you and gives you a detention." The boys voice was shaky as he spoke. He went to pick up his books but Dave was faster.

Rolling his eyes Dave grabbed the boy's blazer and pulled him back down into his seat. "Don't lie, you're not fine. If you were you wouldn't have been in here blubberin'. Now, what's yer' name?"

The boy gasped as he was dragged back into his chair and turned to Dave incredulously. "What are you doing? I am fine, I have to go!"

Dave shrugged. "Like I said, you're not goin' anywhere."

The boy narrowed his eyes annoyed, but it was apparent he knew he couldn't escape. He settled himself back down at the desk and crossed his arms on the surface petulantly. "I'm Arnold Rimmer, and this is not helping."

There was a pause as Dave tried to think of how to reply. "Why were you cryin'?" he finally asked, lost for any other response.

Arnold looked at him wearily. "That's private."

"Just tell me," Dave insisted. "I'm tryin' to help yeh'." Truthfully he was more than a bit curious now. Judging by the way this guy was acting though, perhaps it would have been a better idea to have taken his first idea and left him for somebody else to find.

"If you must know," Arnold started slowly, biting out every word in frustration, "my father used me as a guinea pig."

This caught Dave's attention. "What? Your dad forced you into a cage with straw in it and only gave you one of those little bottles to drink water out of?"

Arnold blinked. Shaking his head roughly he dismissed Dave's idea. "No you idiot, he used me as the subject on an experiment without even telling me or asking my permission!"

The juvenile delinquent sat back in his chair. "Oh. What sort of experiment did he do?"

Arnold rested his head on his hand lethargically. "He asked a series of questions to the class, and told them to raise their hands when he asked them if the wrong answer was right. Every time he asked a question I raised my hand at the right answer but nobody else did, making me think I was wrong. It was humiliating."

"Damn," Dave said quietly. "Your father sounds like an A-grade asshole." It was then that Dave realized something. "Wait a minute, your dad is your teacher?"

The other boy nodded. "Don't call my father an asshole, he's a fine man. It's just that he hates me and I can't figure out why." Tears started to leak down Arnold's cheeks again and he covered his face with one of his hands.

Dave awkwardly put a hand on Arnold's shoulder. "There now, I'm sure he doesn't hate yeh'." Dave had been adopted; he had never known his biological parents. His foster parents had been kind enough though, so he had never experienced what Arnold was feeling.

"What's worse is that everybody else hates me too," Arnold wept, starting to shake with anguish.

"That's not true," Dave rebutted. "I don't hate you."

Arnold removed the hand from his face and looked at Dave. "Give it a few more minutes."

"Well if you have that attitude of course people are goin' the dislike yeh'." Dave pulled a lighter from his pocket and put his cigarette between his lips.

Arnold jumped, his eyes widening. "You can't do that in here!"

"Watch me," said Dave, lighting up his cigarette and inhaling deeply.

The other boy started to wave his hand in front of his face in a futile attempt to get rid of the smoke fumes. "Look at you, you're a no good causeless punk, why do you even care about how I'm feeling?"

It was a legitimate question. Dave wasn't sure what had drawn him to care about this boy in the first place, but now he felt genuinely sorry for the guy. He obviously had some major emotional and family issues going on. "Because nobody deserves to feel sad," was Dave's simple answer.

Arnold stared disbelievingly at Dave. "Well, thank you."

"No problem."

It was silent for a few moments as the two boys sat together, Dave taking periodical fags from his cigarette.

"Don't you care that you're missing out on your –" Arnold took a peek at Dave's book. " –English class."

"Nah, I hate English anyway."

It was totally foreign to Arnold to skip classes, and even more astonishing to not care about it. He watched Dave with awe as the boy continued to casually stare off into space.

"You'll be fine." Dave looked into Arnold's hazel eyes. He spoke with such conviction that somehow Arnold didn't feel like he had the right to dispute him, even if he disagreed.

Arnold felt another blush rising to his cheeks. He didn't know anything about this boy other than his name and the fact that he looked like a bum. Yet somehow his kindness gave him a warm feeling that he had been missing for quite come time now. The pristine boy tapped his fingers nervously on his beginners engineering textbook and flicked his eyes towards his companion sheepishly. "Maybe."

"I know how it feels to be unwanted though," Dave added quietly. Being abandoned as a baby made you highly perceptive to this emotion, not that he was going to let Arnold know about this.

The other boy fidgeted. "Sometimes you just feel so unimportant," he whispered.

"Like there's no reason for you to exist," Dave added.

"You feel… invisible." They both said simultaneously.

They looked at each other in shock and then looked away. As they both tried to understand what was going on the bell for the end of the class rang, filling the room with its shrill chime.

Arnold stood up and picked up his books. This time Dave made no attempt to stop him. "I have to leave now, but thank you for this," he mumbled, turning to Dave.

Dave nodded. "See you around, Rimmer."

Arnold had moved past Dave to leave the room, but at these words he stopped and looked back at the boy who was sitting at the desk, now putting out his cigarette.

"Yeah, see you around."

* * *

**Oh I'm an asshole aren't I? But I felt like this particular story should be left open-ended. Not sure why, just did. **

**Hope you like my little High School AU! **

**Amber*****


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